We're standing side by side (as your shadow crosses mine)
by ibuzoo
Summary: Later, Hermione will swear on everything she holds dear, that Tom was the one who spit out the first insult and started all of this. Tom will swear on his life that it was the exact opposite, that she was the one who twisted his every word. The truth, as both will see, was somewhere in the middle.


**We're standing side by side (as your shadow crosses mine)**

**Challenge: **Summer Holiday Challenge

**Rating: **M

**Warnings/Tags: **blood, violence, summer holidays, rich kids wasting their moneys and time, alternate universe, modern times, part of the Cupid AU

**Word count: **4236

**Correction Read:** Alice (pleasetellmesomethingnew)

**Summary: **Later, Hermione will swear on everything she holds dear, that Tom was the one who spit out the first insult and started all of this. Tom will swear on his life that it was the exact opposite, that she was the one who twisted his every word.

The truth, as both will see, was somewhere in the middle.

**A/N: **This is part of the same universe as Bellatrix POV in ‚If Cupid's got a gun'. I wanted to explore more of the Death Eater Friendship and how Hermione kinda changes the dynamic in their group. More A/N will be at the end of the story.

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

**o.**

It is summer. And this is how it ends.

_(maybe)_

**i.**

Summer, for most people, means the time of the year with the longest days and shortest nights, temperatures far above thirty degree, licking ice creams while their feet dance in the waves on the shores, pure white sand gathering between their toes. Summer means sun hats and aviator glasses, girls in bikinis and boys whistling, flirting, carefree holidays, parties and country house visits. Summer means first big love, filthy kisses in the bays and hands exploring skins and freckles and moles.

For the rest of the world, Summer tastes like freedom.

For _them_, it doesn't taste like freedom at all.

**ii.**

Summer holidays last weeks in a row and all of them are used to gather together like a giant bunch of scouts, living the eternal cliché of an over**-**privileged life with butlers and servants and holidays in their private country houses practically staggered side by side, knowing each other since ages, sometimes since birth and it's easy to fall into a natural pattern.

It's the second year for Hermione to accompany them and even if her parents have a flat just around the corner, she loves to stay in Riddle Manor during the holidays - mostly to keep an eye on all of them, to keep an eye on him.

_(some part of her also tells her, that she stays for the library, but she'd never admit that and nobody dares to point it out)_

Hermione knows that the Lestranges and the Malfoys have their own manors not far away, but they never meet there, the dunes and the sea were their break but Riddle Manor was their headquarter.

She learned early enough that holidays with the Knights are never simple and never plain boring because Tom would never put his "work" in the background, the concept of fun and catharsis not existing in his mind and Hermione often wondered if that's what she likes the most about him.

**iii.**

Later, Hermione will swear on everything she holds dear, that Tom was the one who spit out the first insult and started all of this. Tom will swear on his life that it was the exact opposite, that she was the one who twisted his every word.

The truth, as both will see, was somewhere in the middle.

**iv.**

The sun was radiating high in the sky and it was of the clearest blue Hermione had ever seen, pure and beautiful over their heads while they were gathering around the pool, Bellatrix sunbathing right beside her on a sun bed, Greyback on the barbecue _(‚the pyromaniac', she thought, ‚if not tormenting someone than at least grilling some meat, huh?')_ the others chatting, relaxing and enjoying the wet cold of the water on their burnt skin. Just Antonin and Nott were missing and perhaps that should have given away the clue but she didn't notice until far later that evening, the sun still high and rigid on the cope when the chiming sound of Tom's mobile woke her up from a sun nap.

She didn't even bother too much anymore, not during their holidays, their disputes too often about the dark business he can't even drop during their vacations, so she sighs and closes her eyes again, soaking up the sun a bit more. There was silence at first and occasionally Tom's voice was hardly audible, cold, cutting and she knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the manor again, leaving them behind.

She considered her options a moment but came to the conclusion that following him would be a better alternative than waiting for his rampage outside.

**v.**

She should have known, she should have known all along.

**vi.**

He tells her that Antonin wrecked the deal and got shot, "Graze Shot", he says in passing but there's anger in his voice, barely audible but she knows him well enough, and Hermione can't estimate at first if the anger rises because of the deal or Antonin's wound. The moment she says, "Stay calm, I'll throw on something else and we can drive back to the hospital", she can see his irritation in grey eyes, the mockery when he asks, "Why should we drive to the hospital? Serves him right."

It's the moment the end of it starts.

**vii.**

It's never just arguing with them. It's a fight, an ongoing duel which no one wants to lose and Hermione knows she's right this time, sees his fist clench and his shoulder tense under the navy polo shirt, sees the way his muscles on his neck and collarbone convulse. She knows she should stop, drop it and let it be, but not this time because this is important, Tom has to get her message, Tom has to understand, so she speaks and doesn't stay quiet.

"They're your friends Tom-"

"Followers."

"Call them what you want, in the end they're still your friends, because you're not paying them to do it, are you?"

"They benefit from it too!"

"Yeah but they stay with you no matter what!" There's desperation in her voice because why can't he see what she saw from the start, why does he force himself to such a state.

"They fear me Hermione, and you should too," fury resonates in his voice and his sentence hangs over her head like a Damocles sword, ready to behead her, and he gets what he wants because her focus is on him now, on his true self and so he continues and it's a hiss, slowly, deadly, "Stay out of the business you don't belong to. You're not part of this."

"Yes I am", it's her wounded pride that talks, her despair because she is part of this group, she's a Knight herself and if not then she's damn well a Lady but Tom's eyes glint with something dangerous, something plain evil. One second his mobile was still in his hands and the next it bursts right beside her head on the wall, the phone on the floor with a cracked screen and little shards, his voice the most demonic sound she ever heard, "No you're not!"

Silence is all that follows.

**viii.**

Even if she knows the conversation's not over, both don't say anything for a while. They read too many books to count, they're both too good at noticing ends of things and she knows he's just waiting for her to speak again and perhaps he thinks if he leaves her in silence long enough she'll drop it again, nods and will let him be.

Which is obviously not the case.

She bites her lips and closes her eyes, for a second, then she grabs her waistcoat and leaves.

_(he's just about to open his mouth to say something, but the door falls close and leaves him behind)_

**ix.**

This is not a version of events he would have thought about ever, because he thinks he knows her all too well, knows her in and out. In his mind, she was supposed to become angry with him and tell him to do something for Antonin and he'd be able to laugh about her statement from a close distance and get her to take her head out of his businesses.

This was not supposed to happen.

She was not supposed to go.

**x.**

When Tom returns to the garden alone, no one comments on it.

No one dares.

_(he feels Bella's eyes on his shoulders, sees the way Abraxas judges him with a single glance, but he ignores them all)_

**xi.**

The first night is the cruelest, the loneliness in her parents' flat, the isolation stealing her sleep, written all over Hermione's face and she remembers the past few nights in Riddle Manor, pressed against Tom's body, the way she nestles further up to him and whispered something that sounded a lot like, _"I love you"_, and she knows she meant it, still does. She remembers the way he kissed her forehead but stayed silent, and maybe that's enough.

She wonders if he remembers too or if his pride forbids him any happy memories at all.

**xii.**

There's a text message of Bellatrix the next morning and Hermione breathes out, reads it, answers. It doesn't last long until the others write too and she finds herself laughing about Mulciber's dry humor, relieved at Abraxas' ease. She calls Antonin and promises to come around soon and Rodolphus is in the background, sends his greetings along with the ones from his brother and Hermione knows, that Rabastan won't greet her himself.

Because Tom is everything, Tom speaks and Rabastan follows and that's okay, she gets it.

They're Tom's friends.

But now they're her friends too.

**xiii.**

Bellatrix lays on the sun bed again, mobile in hand and she observes out of the corner of her eyes how Tom tenses up a little more each time her phone vibrates, chimes from a new message. _'Good'_, she thinks satisfied, a smirk gracing on her red painted lips, _'he knows it's her.'_ They exchange some trivial informations about the weather and their days, what they've done, some girl stuff she never knew she'd miss to talk about, when finally Hermione stopped beating about the bush and writes, 'How is he?'

Bella stops a moment and recalls the way Tom barked at Rabastan to get him a new mobile, the way he stayed silent after that and didn't speak besides some orders, the way he was just mere minutes away from torturing Rosier the moment he mentioned Hermione. She shifts and watches him from aside, hidden behind her sunglasses, his whole composure looks painfully strained and Bella sees the circles under his eyes, sees the lack of sleep and the way he argued with himself during the early hours. There's something dark and berserk in his eyes, something that's going to lash out any moment and she knows exactly what's lurking beneath.

There's a shudder on her skin and she answers honestly, writes,'The same he was before he met you.'

**xiv.**

_(at night when she lays in her bed alone, Hermione looks at the whole text conversation with Bellatrix, remembers the way the girl handled her two years ago and it staggered her how much a person's behavior can change)_

**xv.**

It gets worse with each minute that passes, with each hour she doesn't return.

Sometimes Tom thinks it would be much easier to simply hate Hermione.

He doesn't.

He could never.

_(the moment she left, he knows there isn't any other way it could have gone)_

**xvi.**

It's two days later and Hermione sits down on the dunes, sand between her toes and the sun overexposes the white sites on her book and she has to narrow her eyes to slits to read the words, the sunglasses on her nose not really a help. It's a bad excuse to say the sun is the point of her misery, in truth she tries to read the book since days and she always starts with absent mind, notices that she kept turning around at least 30 pages but can't recall what they were about at all. She's frustrated with the outcome and wants to pack up her things and get back inside, even the sunny weather does nothing to cheer her up but then there's a silhouette coming closer and for a moment she thinks it's Tom, but his hair is blond, backcombed and his shoulders are too broad. She needs a moment to adjust her eyes against the blinding daylight until she recognizes him. Avery.

"I thought i'd find you here", there's a small smile on his face but Hermione feels the strain in his behavior, sees the stress in the wrinkles of his eyes.

"It's summer," she answers and gives him a smile too, all open and reassuring but they both feel the situation pressing on their shoulders, so they stay silent for a while. Avery looks as if he wants to talk and Hermione knows.

_(it's getting harder to breath)_

It feels like minutes but she knows it were mere seconds before she takes her beach bag and nods back down the road, says, "I was just about to get myself a Frappuccino, there's a Starbucks down there. I could use some company."

She could almost see his tension drop and he nods, the smile genuine on his lips, "Sure."

**xvii.**

She doesn't ask about Tom, neither does Avery ask her to come back.

They don't need to.

Avery came for her and that's all they have to know.

_(she thinks about the first moment they met and remembers the way Avery's eyes were full of mockery and derision - there was no mockery left in his eyes anymore)_

**xviii.**

Hermione takes the bus because she doesn't have her car with her, she came with Tom and usually she wouldn't have to leave without him but different circumstances require different methods, so she takes the bus and dismounts some stations later to get at Antonin's cottage. She was mildly surprised when Nott opened her the door and lead her in where Rosier, Mulciber and Antonin were already sitting around a table, playing cards.

_(she saw a hidden Ace in Mulcibers' sleeve when she passed him, but she didn't comment on it)_

They greet her on the old fashioned manner, a kiss on each cheek and it amuses her that nothing changed, nothing changed at all. She takes a seat right beside Antonin and gives him his favorite chocolate, adds, "Something so you get well soon," and he wants to give her a hug and it's awkward because where to put your hands when the shot was right on his shoulder? Antonin winces and Rosier snorts, calls him, "Weenie," and Mulciber adds, "Where are your high stakes?"

And that's it.

**xix.**

They still don't talk about Tom because nobody dares, too much fear clinging to their pores.

But Hermione sees the way Rosier grips his mobile trough his jeans to check if Tom has a job for him, the way Mulciber purses his lips _(and certainly presses his teeth together)_ as soon as their conversation just slightly drifts to Tom, the way Antonin exchanges glances with Nott each time his wound aches to remind him of the night it happens.

Hermione sees.

And she knows too.

_(her eyes do also see the way they look at her nowadays, full of acceptance, affection, devotion, and it makes her feel special, like a part of them and it should scare her but instead it feels real)_

**xx.**

It's four days since their dispute.

Four days since they last spoke or saw each other.

There's no word of Tom.

_(there's no word of Hermione either)_

**xxi.**

"It's pathetic that it needs five of us to come here."

She knows the voice and hears them talk before she sees them, Rabastan's annoyance clearly intersecting, Rodolphus calmness and deep rumble right following, "Rabastan please," and of course Bella, who has to give her two cents about it too, saying, "You could have stayed at home, you know?"

Hermione suppresses a smile and rounds the corner, grocery bags still in her hand and it surprises her to see Rockwood, and Greyback right beside Rabastan, leaning on the wall, smoking. She waves, a bit uncertain and she can see Rabastan rolling his eyes but Bella's smile makes up for it, so she gives her a hug and says, "Hi."

Rodolphus takes the grocery bags right out of her hand and she leads the way into the flat, still wondering what this ambush might be. They need some time until everyone is seated and provided. It surprises her, that Rabastan stays silent, takes the cup of coffee right out of her hands and sits down between his brother and Bella while Rockwood and Greyback both prefer the wall behind Hermione to lean on.

_(there was no need to feel threatened though, they wouldn't do anything to her) _

It's an uncomfortable situation, for all of them and Hermione doesn't know how to start this time, doesn't know what to say and the others don't seem to know either, all of them too tensed, too restrained to break the silence above them.

There's a clock ticking in her head and for Hermione it feels like a countdown before they'll drop a bomb on her anxious body.

It's Bella who finally speaks first _(it's always Bella who does)_, but in that moment there's no reminiscent of the noble independent woman Hermione knows, her hand grabs Hermione's too tight, knuckles white, but then she takes a deep breath and suddenly she smiles again, strangely forced, fake, and she says, asks, "So how was your day?"

In her head the clock gets louder.

**xxii.**

When they leave hours later, Bella holds tight on her, gives her a firm hug and there's a moment where Hermione thinks she heard her say, "Please," but then she's already out of her embrace and clamping on Rodolphus arm again, waving goodbye while all of them disappear on the horizon.

There was still no word of Tom, but when she entered the flat again she could feel the panic and fear from all of them clinging to her bones.

_(her memories recall all the moments Rabastan had been gruff and dismissive, the moments when Rodolphus had been too quiet, the moments when Greyback and Rockwood had been indifferent to her person and her mind tells her what she already knows, what her feeling told her all along - she's part of them now)_

**xxiii.**

They never broke up.

She left.

But Tom didn't follow.

**xxiv.**

It's early night when she hears it. First, it's a scratching at the metal of her door handle, followed by a rumble on the wood, a voice, a grunt, and by the time Hermione finally reached the living room to push the switch and give the room some light, there's already someone sitting on her couch, hunched and a hand in platinum blond hair.

"Abraxas?" Her voice is merely above a whisper, and even if she wasn't asleep, there's still the lack of it audible, her depletion. There's another grunt from Abraxas before he finally turns around to face her, old blood crusted on his forehead and he shields his eyes from the light, fingers gripping in his hair. Hermione's at his side in a second, takes his hand away to have a better look at the wound and she sees a bruise right under it, deep red and a hint of blue already. Cuts and contusions are nothing new for her, not since she's hanging around with all of them - after all, it's not her first time to patch someone up. It's not really a surprise for Abraxas when she leaves him just to return with the first aid kit, cleans the wound with iodine and gives him an ice pack to press it against his head. He feels dizzy and angry, but the fatigue is written all over his face.

"What happened?" There's concern in Hermione's voice while she packs away all the utensils she used to doctor him and a moment later he feels the couch beside him dipping under her weight, her perfume tingling in his nose. He turns his head to have a better look at her but the ice pack's in the way, so he grumbles, answers, "Let's just say the Bust of Caccini's Madonna needs a restoration."

"Did you tripped and fall against her?"

"More like she carried out an air raid on me. It's a pity she was beheaded when she fell to the floor though," there was still amusement in his tone, perhaps even a bit of flirtation and Hermione couldn't help but give him a playful shove on his shoulder and Abraxas shrugs, smiles as if it's of no importance.

_(Hermione wasn't there, that's important)_

They sat in complete silence, their breaths the only noises in the room but Hermione felt as if the clock in her head was ticking again, faster this time, nearly striking twelve o'clock. The silence nearly lulled her to sleep but then he speaks again, his voice no more than a whisper, terror clearly emphasizing his speech, and Hermione feels the same fright as at the time Bella gripped her hand tight, knows that Abraxas will say what's long due.

"We need to talk about Tom."

The clock in her head just stops.

**xxv.**

_(there's a second where she asks herself if Abraxas ever treated her differently, and then she remembers the first time they met and how he smiled and gave her a wink, but she knows he never appreciate her, except now he does)_

**xxvi.**

It's the fifth night since she left Tom.

She opens the doors of Riddle Manor and enters.

_(she will never count her return as a defeat)_

**xxvii.**

"What do you want?"

Tom's voice is a bark, a roar and it cuts right trough her core, chills her to the bones. He's standing in the living room, his hair a mess and it looks like he's run his fingers through it far too often, his shoulders tense and even in the dim light she could see how his composure was as thin as ice, his temper raging right under the pale skin. His eyes were hollow, red from the lack of sleep _(like yours, reminded her voice in her head)_ and the darkness swallows any grey shimmer that was left. The room mirrors his mental state, curtains are crooked, the table overthrown and everything that was on it lied still in shards on the old wooden floor. The bust Abraxas mentioned lies still beheaded to her feet and she asks herself how much work Rosier needs to put into his researches to find a suitable replicate before Tom's father comes back to the country house and sees the destruction that his son left behind.

_(there's a second when she wonders if he'd act like this if his father would be around, but she doubts it would make a big difference)_

"Seems like you had a lot of fun while i was away," she answers casually, her voice strained trough the atmosphere around them. She makes a step forward and there's the gritting sound of breaking glass under her shoes but she doesn't cast her eyes down, they are still fixed in his counterparts and she notices how his breath gains speed, how it becomes rapid and uneven, his eyes blown wide, like an animal.

"Are you here to mock me?!" There's a deadly note in his tone and Hermione sees the vein on his neck throbbing, his hands burying in themselves until they turn dazzling white and she takes another step, answers honestly, "No, of course not."

She waits a moment, his breath evens out again but there's still something heinous behind his eyes, still a cruel predator and she fears it, is terrified but she doesn't stop because to stop would mean to let him win. Hermione takes a breath, again, and tries to get to him, says, "Earlier Abraxas came to me," and it was the wrong thing to say _(or maybe exactly the right)_ because Tom laughs, high and callous and he spits out, "Bloody traitor, what did he want? Did he cry his eyes out?"

And Hermione suddenly feels a rage rising in her chest and there's the sudden need to protect them, all of them because they're friends now or even a family, she doesn't know the difference anymore but she knows, that she's part of it and so she shouts back, anger flaring up in her.

"No, but perhaps he needed a friend, considering that you're so bad at it!"

"I don't need any friends!"

„Yes you do, but you're just too blind to see, too proud to accept-", she sees his hand reaching for the vase on the sideboard but before he has a chance to throw it, she already echoes his laugh, spits right back at him, "Oh that's classy, throw a vase at me the same manner as you did with Abraxas, seems like your thing now."

She waits for the impact.

But it everything suddenly stops.

**xxviii.**

There's a full minute in which they're staring at each other and she can see the realization dawning in his eyes, the humanity returning and his grip releases around the vase, still a tremor in his body. Their breaths calm down and Hermione feels suddenly very exhausted, physically and mentally, feels the night cooling down her skin even if it's still far over twenty degrees and Tom continues to look at her, muted.

There's still a psychopathic glimmer in his grey eyes but Hermione doesn't take note of it anymore. Instead she makes another step and reaches for his hand, entwines their fingers, pulls him closer, drags him behind her so they can sit on the couch, her arms around him, her face between his shoulder blades.

There's no need for words anymore.

**xxix.**

She didn't notice the gritting sound of the glass under her shoes, neither did she notice the blood of his bare feet when she dragged him trough the shards.

Perhaps you can call it revenge.

Perhaps you can call it love.

**xxx.**

The Knights enter the room with the first sunbeams in the East and the house key jangles in Abraxas hands, reflecting the light that shines trough the giant window-walls. They find both of them tangled in each other's hands and limbs, and they're sleeping tight, foreheads pressed together, her hand right on his chest.

Nobody dares to wake them, so they breathe out and leave.

**xxxi.**

It's still summer, And this is how it starts.

_(maybe)_

* * *

**A/N 2: **I want to point out, that even if Tom doesn't consider anyone his _friend, _Abraxas was the one who had a spare key to the Riddle country house. The Cupid-Verse (i'm calling it like this) is my most favorite AU so far, because what's better than rich Death Eater College Students with their hands in dirty business?


End file.
